Infinity
by JussCallMeBilly
Summary: Don't cry to me. If you loved me, you would be here with me. OneShot. LDYB2. LeeKara


Title- Infinity

Author- Monica

Rating- Barely PG-13

Disclaimer- I own nothing of this piece of angst. The song I borrowed belongs to Evanescence.

Notes- Okay a long drabble of what I thought could have led to the season finale. It may be a little confusing, but I think it is easy enough to understand. The timeline jumps a bit but you should be able to follow it. Happy reading!

**INFINITY**

_So don't cry to me.  
If you loved me,  
you would be here with me.  
_

_Don't lie to me,  
just get your things.  
I've made up your mind._

THE DEPARTURE:

I've tried to hate you. I swear I have. Loving you was too painful. Forgetting you was impossible. Hating you was the only thing left that I could do. And it worked.

Almost.

At least I thought it had. I had thought that after the wedding it could be over. You had moved on, and I was allowed to hate you for it. For the past four months and sixteen days (Yes, that's how long it has been) I despised you with every part of my being. Or so I thought.

I must have been wrong. Because if I had truly hated you, seeing you cry right now wouldn't break my heart. I would be able to laugh and tell you- you had it coming.

You did by the way.

Not that I could ever say that to you. I am too numb to say anything to you anymore. Tears trickle down your face in a way you never let happen before. Each one representing another regret. Have we reached infinity yet?

You want me to reach out to you I think. Because that would be the easy thing to do. I could embrace you the way I did when I found the first set of cigar burns. Does your husband know about all of that? He must by the way he looks at you. Have you ever noticed? His eyes hold pity for you. It makes me want to vomit. Every story he knows about you is another page ripped out of our history. I think you would give him the book if you could.

I would rather be shot then go through all this pain. Care to pull the trigger again? You don't bother to wipe away any of your tears. What are a few more stains on your perfect complexion? Your eyes soon dry and now you're angry.

"I hate you."

I don't believe it. Hating me would be too easy, and you never take the easy way out. Besides you could never hate me anymore than I could ever hate you.

You grab your bag and leave. You have finally made up your mind I guess. But not really, I made it up for you.

I want to stop you more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life. I want to kiss you even more than that. But I won't. Letting you leave is the only way I can save you. Because with him you can eventually be happy. I don't want your happiness, but I need it. Being the reason why you are unhappy would destroy me. And I think that destroying me would kill you too.

_Should I let you fall?  
Lose it all?  
So maybe you can remember yourself.  
_

_Can't keep believing,  
we're only deceiving ourselves .  
And I'm sick of the lie,  
and you're too late._

_You never call me when you're sober.  
You only want it cause it's over,  
It's over._

THE REQUEST:

You knock on the door of my office. I know it must be you. You're the only one stupid enough to bother me on this day. I toss aside the tie that I could not get straight enough anyways. I throw off my jacket while I am at it. Three weeks ago you asked me to be your Best Man. Could you twist the knife in my heart a little harder next time?

Your wedding is in an hour so you must already be in your dress. It is bad luck for anyone to see the bride in her dress before the wedding.

I open the door anyway.

I am losing the only woman I ever truly loved to another man. Could my luck get any worse? I guess it can. It must have, because you are here standing in my doorway, confused, drunk, and-_gods dammit_ beautiful.

Your dress was specially made and perhaps the simplest dress I have ever seen. Which I guess is kind of ironic, because you are the most complicated person I have ever met.

Your hair probably looked good hours ago, but now it is a mess. As are you. You stumble into my office and I go to you subconsciously. I am helping you sit down on my couch before I even realize I had ever moved.

"Geez, Kara," I whisper as I take away the bottle of ambrosia you are so desperately clinging to.

"Gif it backkk," you slur. You try to reach over me to my outstretched hand, and we both hitch our breath. I must have recovered first, because I jump up from the couch.

"For Gods' sakes, Kara, you are getting married!"

You look at me, as defiant as ever. But there is something else in your eyes. Uncertainty. Fear? I couldn't be sure. I have never seen you either way before.

"I dunno know whatta do," you admit. You must have sounded pitiful.

"You love Anders," I tell you. I have no idea why I am trying to talk you into marrying someone else. Do I even think that you love him?

"Yes," you respond hesitantly. I wasn't asking you a question.

"You promised him you would marry him." The whole ship was probably gathering at the Flight Bay as we spoke. Helo with Anders as his best man. Me as yours.

"Tell me not to," you demand. Too bad I have never been able to tell you to do anything your entire life. No one has. I shake my head and sit next to you.

"I am not going to tell you what to do."

You sniff at the air and look past me. "Ask me not to."

I wish I could have. I have regretted it everyday since then. You came as close as you ever would to admitting that you loved me. And I turned you away. Because I knew what this really was.

An escape.

You were afraid of marriage, of becoming a wife. You wanted me to bail you out like the old days. Back when we were just Starbuck and Apollo.

But I can't.

Gods forgive me, I just could not. It wasn't only us anymore. I would not allow you to screw up other people's lives. Even if that person was Anders. Besides, two bottles of ambrosia ago you would have never even thought of asking me to stop you.

I look into your eyes and realize that I love you too much to stop you from marrying him. How twisted is that?

You lunge at me and there is not a man in this universe that would have been strong enough to say no. I cry the entire time that we make love. I push harder and harder into you, wishing that I could hurt you half as much as you are hurting me.

There must be a special kind of hell for Best Men who frak the bride thirty minutes before her wedding. When we are finished you pass out from drinking. I run into the bathroom and vomit. Again and again and again.

_Couldn't take the blame.  
Sick with shame.  
Must be exhausting to lose your own game.  
_

_Selfishly hated,  
no wonder you're jaded.  
You can't play the victim this time,  
and you're too late._

THE WEDDING:

An hour passes that you will never remember.

I give you a shower and redress you. You are completely unaware as I force you to drink the closest thing to coffee on the ship. By the time I hand you off to Helo you are beginning to become sober.

He doesn't ask why I look like a mess and why you are hung-over.

The next thing you remember is being at the altar next to the man that you love. You frantically search around you to see where I am. You and everyone else at the wedding assume I was too bitter to come. I stand hidden behind a viper and watch as your heart snaps in two. You think I abandoned you on the day you needed me most. I'll never tell you that without me you would never be here.

You have no idea how much I was tempted to leave you lying on my couch. All I had to do was not say a word, and Anders would have believed you had changed your mind.

I watch as you shed a lone tear. Everyone thinks you are crying from being so overwhelmed and happy. I know the real reason. So must President Roslin. She stepped in to be your Maid-of-Honor, and she places a comforting hand on your shoulder. I vow to hate you after this day. You must have done the same.

Whether it is from the lack of my presence at the wedding or from the events that happened in my office I will never know. Maybe you don't either.

Four months and sixteen days later you speak to me for the first time. You eyes are red from crying and you look like hell.

"He's asked me to move," You tell me. I am not surprised. Anders didn't have a place on Galactica. "I will have to give up flying," you continue.

I think that you are shedding too many tears from the thought of having to give up your viper, but I don't say anything. I know the real reason why you are crying. Anders is not making you choose between Galactica and your marriage. He is making you choose between him and me.

_How could I have burned paradise?  
How could I - you were never mine._

THE CALL:

"Anders is sick. He has pneumonia, Lee. I think he might die."


End file.
